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The Red Badge of Courage!!
July 24, 1863 Dear Diary, As I looked upon the men that were tattered, brusied and severly injured I felt a sense of envy arousing inside me. To me it seemed like their injuries sumbolized victory-- a badge of courage. I wanted one, I envied them. As I walked on I saw a injured soldier who looked familiar. It was Jim Conklin. He greeted me and told me that he was injured. He told me how he was afraid that he might get run over by the artillary weapons. I told him that I would take care of him. However, shortly after he ordered me to leave him alone and told me not to touch him. Jum runs away and goes to a patch of buses, there he collapses and dies. I was feeled with rage. I angerly waved my fists towards the battlefilde
July 24, 1863 Dear Diary, As me, and the tattered soldier stood there looking at at all that was left of my friend and fellow soldier in combat. The tattered soldier was pondering how Jim had mustered up the strength to run such a distince with a wound so severe. The soldier turned to me and told me he wasnt feeling all that great. At first I thought I was about to witness another death, and I knew I wouldnt be able to handle it. He then told me he wasnt about to die. That he had a family and friends that needed him. The soldier looked at me, mistaking me for his friend, and said I looked weak and that I should get checked out. Tormented by the soldiers words I walked away, even knowing that he might die., because no-one could ever figure out ''my crime.''
July 24, 1863 Dear Diary, As the battle grew louder and louder I came upon a line of solidiers. The mens enthusiam got me really excited myself. For a while I thought about going to battle but decided not to because I didnt have a rifle. I sit back and think how the army has overcome every defeat in the past. However, this still doesnt make it any better. I feel like im the most selfish man ever to exist. I didnt really believe that the soldiers in the blue uniforms would lose. I tried to make up a good story, so when the men got back to camp they would not scorn me. I couldnt find a good excuse and I began to worry if the men would think I was a coward and my name be forever disgraced.
July 24, 1863 Dear Diary, When I looked out at the battlefield I realized that the men that I had envied earlier were being swallowed up by the enemy. I was overwhelmed by the battle taking place right before my eyes. In desperate attempt to understand I grabbed a fleeing mans arm. When I asked the man what had went wrong he shouted at me, hit me in the head with the rifle, and kept running. Still dizzy and stumbling around from the hit that I had just recieved in the head I met a friendly stranger. The kind stranger helped me find the way back to my regiment and then abrutly disappeared into the forest. It was then that I realized that I never saw the strangers face.
